I am thrilled that I am a mother now. My husband and I have been dating/married for over ten years and we got out all the "crazies" that we wanted before starting a family and we were SO ready. We found out on Christmas Eve of 2018 that we were pregnant, while visiting my parents across the country, and it was the best holiday gift we ever could've asked for. The thought of having a kid always seemed so far away but it happened fast and we almost burst with excitement.
Nothing could prepare me on how to be a mom. It is hard. The hardest thing I've ever done. I've lived most of my life worrying about myself, my doggos, and my husband. I would go to my day job (that I love) and come home to write every night. At the prime of my writing time, I could write the first draft of a book within a month--and continue having a social life and keeping our place clean. My husband and I are fortunate enough that we have our own hobbies that keep us sane outside of work. His is baseball everything (he does work for an MLB team for his day job, too) and mine is writing. We would spend weekends visiting breweries where I could plot a new story and he would share interesting and facts about baseball that I never needed to know.
Like, did you know a "dying quail" is a baseball term?
Defined as: a batted ball that drops in front of the outfielders for a hit, often unexpectedly. Also known as a blooper, a li'l looper, a chinker, a bleeder, or a gork.
I know what that means and can use it correctly in a sentence. Again, it's interesting, but I never really needed to know that. To spare you, I won't provide anymore interesting facts.😀
But those days are long gone sipping IPAs and cold brew all day. Now, my day goes by in cyclical blur of changing diapers, feeding my adorable baby, cleaning bottles, cuddling, rocking, singing, and somehow finding time to shower and eat. I lost a lot of my creative thoughts once I reached about 30 weeks pregnant and that means in almost five months, I think I've written maybe 4,000 words. This is hard for me to accept because on those beer-drinking weekends, I was writing 10K.
Before having my son, I was a dedicated worker to my day job, a good wife, and a writer. Now, my identity is "mom" and mom alone. There are hard moments where my kid won't stop crying and I've been home alone for 10 hours with him and I have food in my hair and the dogs are barking, but the good moments outweigh the bad by a million. I mean, look at these pictures of my kid?
He's so happy and wonderful, but during those middle of the night feedings where he won't go back to sleep and I'm left with my thoughts, I can't help by wonder if I'll ever be able to write again. Will I get an hour once a week to dive into some old WIP? The stories I started months ago... will I ever finish them? It's difficult to accept my routine from before no longer works. It's taken six weeks for me to accept that and by no means am I complaining, more just curious how my "new" routine will look. Maybe, I finish one draft a year. Maybe not.
For those out there who are mommas, writers, workers, wives, etc. Any advice on how to balance it all? What worked well for you? What didn't?
I'm still trying to figure it all out but for now, I'm enjoying my unlimited cuddles with my lil guy because I know my maternity leave is going to fly by.
Goofy, romance-loving sports fanatic who often talks about her baby, her husband, or romance novels that make her heart feel squishy.